


Before We Go

by failsafe



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), CW DCTV - Full Universe, Crisis on Earth X (2017), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Dialogue, Consent, Episode Fix-it, Episode Novelization Excerpt, Episode Tag, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It Dialogue, Marriage, Meta, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 16:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12964056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/pseuds/failsafe
Summary: In 2017, Barry Allen and Iris West attempted to get married to far too many interruptions. One of those interruptions was controversial, loved by some and despised by others, apparently including at least one of the lead writers for the show which chronicles the lives of Barry Allen and Iris West(-Allen). In order for Felicity Smoak and Oliver Queen to marry at last, also after too many attempts, an executive decision was made that the former's quirkiness and tendency to put her foot in her mouth be turned up to 11 and in full effect. This hurt fans, Iris West, and, in this author's opinion, some credibility among those called the Powers That Be. This documents an exactly 37% canon divergence which attempts to reconcile some irreconcilable discomfort in the fandom. It is for fans of both couples. It is for fans of canon-only-with-couples-tacked-on. It is for multishippers. It is also for those who, as in the immortal words of the 2004 filmMean Girls, wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school and bake a (wedding) cake filled with rainbows and smiles and that everyone would eat it and be happy.Tag Note:*but not consent of the sexual kind





	Before We Go

**Author's Note:**

> **Note 1:** This is an honest attempt to offer a possible solution to some really unfortunate writing in a scene that I want to like and mostly-do but which I know causes a lot of discomfort for a lot of people. If you hate one pairing or the other or have come here to see Olicity (or WestAllen) called out or pedestalized beyond their station, this fic is not for you. This fic is for those who _almost_ like the way things are but would like for there to have been a _bit_ more tact. This fic is a peace offering. This fic is something I wrote to give myself catharsis and a writing challenge on a Saturday afternoon because I felt that I owed it to people. 
> 
> **Disclaimer A/A personal statement:** I am not in the Olicity Fandom. I am not in the WestAllen Fandom. I am in the DCTV fandom. If I ever was in one of these capital-F fandoms, I would have come closer to being in the WestAllen Fandom, back during S1, but I only just recently got back into the DCTV universe. I'm happy, and I hate seeing so many people unhappy and feeling put off. This is meant to be something good that, if it fosters anything, will foster good-will. Because of that, hateful or heavily-biased in a negative way comments will be ignored/deleted/their posters blocked depending on the place where they are posted. If you want to engage in thoughtful, articulate meta discussion that is critical of my take on this, feel free to message me separately or elsewhere, but in this particular thread/place/time I am not going to let that be the most-vocal takeaway from it, and I hope you will respect the spirit with which it is written and my authorial wishes. Thanks! 
> 
> **Disclaimer B:** It goes without saying on all my fics, but this fic has a _lot_ of canon dialogue in it, and I mostly tried to avoid _excessive_ editorializing on the things I was just literally going through a clip and transcribing. This fic is mostly from an almost-objective third person POV as a result, because I'm trying to be as respectful to the source material as I think it deserves while "fixing" it to my better-liking. 
> 
> **Note 2:** I did do my level best to give Iris the space to feel something about her day not going at all according to plan. I also tried to make it so Felicity could actually confirm some kind of peace with this. I let her ramble, and I tried to make her apologetic enough, but I'm not about to put her on the chopping block after what she went through as a Jewish woman facing a horde of alternate-Earth Nazis including a terrible, nightmare version of her now-husband. I am all about lady positivity, and I hate that strange (and arguably really bad for a moment there) writing threatens them remaining friends, and that was a big part of my motivation too. 
> 
> **Resources:** This is the original scene, which I used, transcribed, and altered: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1wQuddq7zt0
> 
> This is someone's sound extract of the background/music track of the scene so you can, if you wish, read this fic with it in the background to see if it works for you: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rm6qnvV3egE And a listenonrepeat link of the same: https://listenonrepeat.com/?v=rm6qnvV3egE#Crisis_on_Earth_X_Soundtrack%3A_Double_Wedding_(LOT_3x08) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my little project. It's much too meta and whatever, but I did it for me and hope it does something for you.

 

“Well, if you want it to be personal, I think we know a guy who's ordained,” Felicity said, looking up for Oliver and some expression of recognition. He gave her one and swallowed an unspoken word.

In the space of less than a second, Barry thought it over and agreed. He was in Star City and back again in the space of a breath or two, hardly a wrinkle in his or in John Diggle's clothes.

John took stock of his surroundings and tried to steady his irregular breathing. He smiled a brave smile and lifted his hand in an already placating gesture. He thought he had this.

“It's a good thing I didn't vomit, right?” he asked, looking into Barry and Iris's faces. The former looked skeptical, on the verge of a wince, while the latter looked equal parts surprised, glowing, happy. He really didn't want to do this, but the moment he thought he had it, he managed to turn away and retch onto the ground. He could feel the collective discomfort and sensed his friends' efforts to close their eyes, to turn away.

“Are you okay?” Felicity asked in a strained, dutiful tone that was a little louder than necessary from the force behind it.

John scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to recover his center – both his dignity and his equilibrium. He turned to Barry and pointed at him, giving a mild order but not before he pressed a loose fist to his mouth and made absolutely certain that nothing else but words wanted to come up.

“A little warning, next time?”

“Sorry,” Barry said, a little contrite and flat. Iris gave him a look of blended sympathy and disgust.

“What's up?” John managed to ask, glancing between all four of his friends.

“You got ordained to marry your brother and Carly, right?” Felicity asked, still tucked tightly against Oliver's side.

“Yeah,” John rasped out.

“We were... _hoping_ that you could give us the same treatment,” Iris interjected, a little strain in her lips and mouth as if she were nervous to ask or to have it answered. 

John looked at Iris, then at Barry, and Iris again. He hadn't had much time to process, but he quickly got up to speed. 

“Wow, really? I'm honored,” he replied. 

“Yeah?” Barry asked. 

“I am,” John insisted. 

Iris smiled without any attempt to hide it while Barry glanced away, a little bashful and a little smug at once, pressing his lips together as they tried to form a smile, too. He stopped fighting it when his eyes got to Iris. His hand moved along her shoulder and he met her eyes. They shared a kind of silent agreement and confirmation. 

“Alright, well let's... do it,” Barry said. 

“Okay, that's great,” John said, sincerely before launching into a very quick logistical assessment. “Uhm...” he said, turning to Oliver and Felicity, “I guess that makes you the best man,” he decided, pointing and Oliver before shifting the gesture to Felicity with a nod, “you the maid-of-honor.” 

Felicity gave an audible, excited gasp. At the same time, Oliver gently started to lower his hand from Felicity's back and to square his posture. 

“Honored is correct,” Oliver said with a little lowering of his head. 

Felicity's hand rested over her heart for a moment. Then, she brought both hands together and bowed to Iris a little before laughing with her and bounding to her with open arms. 

Meanwhile, John gestured to bring both his arms to cross briefly in front of him.

“Alright, let's get into position,” he said. “You're here,” he told Barry, then he pointed to each respective position for Oliver, Felicity, and Iris, “and there and there.”

Barry looked at Iris across from himself and added, dryly: “Oh, I see.”

Iris laughed at her husband-to-be, visibly overjoyed.

“You guys write vows or you just want the boilerplate?” John asked.

“Oh!” Iris exclaimed softly, reaching into her pocket to retrieve the little slip of paper that had already been through so much. “Yes, I, um, wrote mine,” she said as she unfolded them.

“Um, I tried to write mine, uhm...” Barry said, glancing at Oliver for remembered commiseration's sake before snapping his attention back to Iris, “but then I realized that I didn't need to.”

Iris gave him a little look of concern, but there was no fear there at all.

“Uhm,” Barry said again, gathering his nerve and thoughts together, “my entire life has been marked by two things. The first one is change. From when I was a kid to when I was an adult, things were always changing, but no matter how different things became or what new challenges I had to face, I always had the other thing that my life was marked by. And that's you. You've always been there. As a friend, as a partner, as the love of my life. You're my home, Iris. And that's one thing that will _never_ change.” 

Iris smiled and pressed her lips together, emotion lifting her to the tips of her toes as she seemed to hold back happy tears, lowering herself back down flat onto her feet. 

“That was really nice,” she said with composure and then a soft laugh. She was grinning at him. 

Beyond them, Felicity glanced from Iris up to Oliver. He glanced up at her from attentive listening, but by the time he had, she had already returned her gaze to Iris. 

“Uhm,” Iris prefaced her vows, gathering her voice and mirroring Barry, “when I was nine years old, I wanted to be a ballerina, remember?” she asked, pausing for Barry to nod while he watched her eyes. “And though I was not a very good dancer,” Iris said, momentarily turning to look at Felicity and Oliver to draw them into the wry truth of it. She licked her lips before she continued speaking. “And the day of the recital, I froze.” She shook her head a little. “I couldn't move,” she said, looking into Barry's face. “And I wanted to die,” she said, aside in Felicity's direction for just a second. She anchored her gaze on Barry. “And then, I looked in the audience, and I saw you. And you got up and you climbed onto stage and you did that whole routine with me,” she said, smiling and shaking her head at once. “And we killed it!” she insisted, drawing soft laughter from everyone around her. “I mean, we brought the house _down_.” She glanced down briefly. “And from that moment I knew that with you by my side, anything was possible. The Flash may be the city's hero, but you, Barry Allen, you're my hero. And I am... happy,” she announced, pausing with another soft bounce to her tiptoes as she restrained her urge to cry, “excited, and honored to be your wife.”

John paused for a moment to let Iris's words hold their own weight. 

“Wonderful,” he added after a few, reverent seconds. “Well, then I pronounce you both – Bartholomew Henry Allen,” he said, carefully making sure not to fumble his unfamiliar, full name. Barry hummed an affirmation that he had gotten it right as he continued, “and Iris Ann West – husband and wife. Barry – please – kiss your bride.” 

There, in that park, before the water, three of their friends, and an inopportune puddle of sick that made neither of them want this any less, Barry Allen took her hands and drew her in. He kissed Iris  _West-Allen_ – officially – for the first time. 

Iris squeezed Barry's hands and tiptoed to lean into the kiss which she returned wholeheartedly, finally married after another, different kind of near-end-of-the-world which might have been more jarring than some of the rest. He was still here; she was still here; and he was still her hero. 

When they broke apart, both smiling until it might have ached for them or in the chests of anyone watching, John lifted his hands in another gesture to conclude the ceremony and break into less formal congratulations and proceedings. John opened his mouth, but the sound never made it out because of a sudden, startling interjection. 

“Wait,” Felicity interjected, desperately. “Wait, wait,” she pleaded. “Just one second. Um, if you guys don't mind,” she said, quickly indicating Barry and Iris. 

Iris squeezed Barry's hand she still held tighter, startled but turning to Felicity, too. 

“Or, I mean, if _you_ don't mind,” Felicity said, gesturing and leaning toward Oliver just a little. “Really, if you don't mind,” she said, in a blanket way. 

Iris glanced from Felicity's face up at Oliver's for a second, following whatever was happening and quickly seeing the shape of it. 

“But, before we go, would you marry us, too?” Felicity asked John, wheeling her gaze back around to Oliver almost frenetically. Then, almost as an afterthought, she looked at Oliver. “Will you marry me?” 

“I thought... I mean, I thought you didn't believe in marriage,” Oliver said in an even tone, neither hoping nor drawing back from it. 

“No,” Felicity agreed mildly, “but I believe in you,” she said, hands pressed tightly together in low, restrained supplication. “And I believe that no matter what life throws at us, our love can conquer it, married or unmarried. I love you. My greatest fear – my greatest fear in life is losing you—”

“Yes,” Oliver said, without hesitation when he decided to speak. 

“Okay,” Felicity accepted quickly. 

“Yeah?” Felicity asked at the same time Oliver smiled and simply said: “Yeah.” 

“I do,” Oliver said as he reached for her hand. And again: “I do,” when he took it. 

Barry grinned tightly, perhaps proud that his earlier advice and faith had finally paid off. That he had been right, even in the face of an all-knowing mentor who had known, in a very dark hour and before, that he would never have the same kind of happiness, strength, and security that Barry could feel settling over his shoulders, tearing away other weight with it. 

Iris's face went through several emotions. First, she was confused and a little anxious. Her wedding had been interrupted once, but now it was done and all that remained was to walk away a married woman. She watched Felicity, perplexed as she often was with her, but then she saw Oliver's reaction and couldn't help smiling at him. Once upon a time, he had been a handsome stranger that Barry had inexplicably known. Now, he was a man that looked very anxious and relieved at once to finally be with the woman he loved. And today, after everything, it made her smile at him, too. 

“Uh, John... what do you... what do you say?” Oliver asked, no longer the picture of decisive and calm leader that he had needed to be for so many hours now. 

“Wait—” Felicity said, holding up her finger to indicate her need of another moment. 

Oliver frowned, possibly terrified, but he looked back down at her. 

“Wait, it's okay, I promise, but,” she said quickly. Then she looked at Iris, taking her free hand and reaching up for her arm, below her shoulder. “There's a certain order this usually goes in. And I never really paid attention, because I was never the kind of girl who fantasized about this happening to me. But... I know this is sudden, and I know... none of this went how anyone planned, but... Iris, will you be my maid-of-honor, too?” 

Iris watched Felicity and squinted. It was all so-fast, and with her  _husband_ she knew fast. 

“I—” she started to say, but she hesitated. 

Felicity looked more and more like a deer caught in headlights. 

“I just... really wanted this to be okay. All of this,” Felicity explained. “And the world being invaded by Nazis – more than it _already is_ – was too-much for everyone. I just know that... I've spent all this time now... waiting and hoping that it wasn't too late for me to undo what I did. Hoping that the last thing I said to the man I love wasn't to break his heart because of stupid, selfish fear. And you helped me see that. I... I would be _honored_ if you would witness my wedding, just as I was honored to witness yours.” She reached up and hesitated, glancing at Barry as if for permission. Then, without waiting much, she just barely thumbed against the apple of Iris's cheek for a split second. “Like your dad said... at that _beautiful_ rehearsal dinner where I... also lacked the necessary volume control for... _anything—_ ” she added, with a guilty glance toward but not quite to Oliver, “your love is... inspirational. In a way mine might not be, but—”

“Felicity,” Iris interjected. She was almost convinced about halfway into Felicity's talking, but seeing her nerves and hearing her reasons and just wanting her to _breathe_ , she settled herself in her conviction. Like Barry had said, everything in life _changed_ – even the best of plans – and if this changed for them, maybe it would be for the better. That was what marriage was. It was something to fight for, and it was a promise of _hope_. “Yes. Yes, I'll be your maid-of-honor.” She grinned, more than she expected to. She took Felicity's hand and tugged her closer before almost as quickly letting go. 

“Thank you,” Felicity breathed so earnestly that it sounded almost like her knees might buckle. 

Oliver looked at Barry with only slightly inclined eyebrows. 

Barry lifted his free hand, not yet thinking of letting go of Iris. 

“Hey, it was my advice that put us here, wasn't it?” he responded to Oliver's look. 

“Something like that,” Oliver agreed, a little wryly and with a returning smile that gained a little confidence. 

“Now,” Felicity said after a moment. She swung her hand in Oliver's a little to draw his attention and nodded back to John. “Better,” she said. 

“... So what do you say?” Oliver supplied, now that it was time, according to Felicity. 

Arms folded across his chest, Diggle exhaled and was ready with his reply. 

“Are you kidding me, Oliver? I'm the guy for the past six years that's been trying to keep you two together. 

“It's true,” Oliver murmured toward Felicity, smile no longer fading at the first opportunity. 

“It's only fitting that I marry you,” John said over some collective, nervous, knowing, and joyful laughter. “Okay,” he said with an instant of bowing his head, arms still crossed. “Vows?” he asked two of his oldest, best friends without clear expectation. 

Oliver looked down into Felicity's face. 

“No,” he said, without regret. 

“No,” Felicity agreed, warm and steady. 

“And we _can't_ do better than them,” Oliver said decisively. 

“Definitely not,” Felicity said. “We kind of did those fake vows when we had that fake wedding with that psychopath-serial-killer-archer-lady.” 

“I remember saying something along the lines of... you're the very best part of me,” Oliver said, it becoming obvious that the memory or the thought hadn't been forgotten or dimmed at all. 

Felicity smiled tightly, her lower lip lifting a little with suppressed emotion. 

“Felicity, I'm a better _human being_ just because I've loved you.” 

Felicity lost her ability to repress her smile and grinned until her mouth opened in a sound that mimicked a quiet sob but which was its perfect, warm opposite. 

“Well,” John said, “since we don't have any rings just yet,” he said, lacing his hands together, perhaps remembering that he hadn't recalled to ask if Barry and Iris had carried them through all of this, doubtful as it was. “I'll skip right to the part where I say this: Oliver Jonas Queen, Felicity Megan Smoak, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He paused for a long, long moment until he got Felicity and then Oliver to glance at him with sharp, nervous curiosity. “Oliver,” he said, “kiss your bride,” he said with a satisfied, accomplished smile. 

Felicity leaned in and Oliver reached to cup her jaw on either side. He held her while they kissed, fear of losing each other again forgotten for a little while. They had won again; they had lived and found their way back to each other. And if they kissed long enough for Iris to grow impatient and pull her husband down into another kiss, it wasn't long enough until, at last, for John's sake, it was. 

 


End file.
